


I need you but I don't want you

by UnderwaterNearHome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depressed Dean Winchester, Depression, Homosexuality, M/M, POV Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Self-Harm, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Worried Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 16:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderwaterNearHome/pseuds/UnderwaterNearHome
Summary: Dean Winchester, a broken man, far beyond what he even knows.His gradual slope into the dark twisted depression that holds him just crashes, and instead of sliding, hes falling.He has to get up from dinner and run to his room. Because he knows that hes about to break.Warning: Deals with Mental illnesses, Self harm, and Suicide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm so glad you gave this even a glance, and I hope your having a wonderful day and I'm sorry if this is horrible. If you have any suggestions, feedback, or critique, feel free to drop a comment.
> 
> Thank you so so so much.

I'm so tired, tired of this life, I just want to go home, but I am home.

"Dean?" A voice penetrating my train of thought, snaping me back to reality, a voice I hear everyday.

"What Sam?" I ask, looking down at my plate and picking up the slice of pizza.

"Are you okay?" He asks, of course he had to ask, I hate it when people ask me that. Whenever they ask me that singular stupid, idiotic, belittling question.

I want to grab my gun, aim at the forehead of whoever said it, and pull the trigger. But not Sam, I wouldnt lay a finger on him.

"Of course, Sammy, why wouldn't I be?" I say through a forced smile, but before he can say anything else, ask anything else, I look over at Cas and poke his full not touched plate.

"Cas, you gotta eat." I say, he looks over at my plate, my face, and then to his plate and sighs.

"Dean, angels do not digest food. Of course we could but it would only be for the vessel, not myself." He says, taking the two slices of pizza off his paper plate and setting them back onto the box.

A silence passes over the table, Castiel doesnt seem bothered by it, but I can just tell Sam is squirming in his seat.

"Cas, have you read anything new? I saw you roaming the library a few days ago." Sam says, breaking the tension a bit, I turn and look at him, and of course hes smiling. 

"Yes, actually I have. I read up on some biographies." He says, his face clear of emotion.

Sam makes a noise of approvement, but I drown him out, and look back down at my plate.

I pick up the slice of pizza and go to shove the pizza into my mouth, but a erie thought creeps into my head, shouting like a voice.

'Dont you feel so stupid being a practical highschool drop-out? And being near people smarter than you.'

'All you know how to do is have sex with girls you never liked, drink until you forget your name, and dissapoint everyone.'

The voice in my head kept screaming it, screaming it, I thought it was coming from the bunker for a second, and I wanted to cover my ears, I wanted to yell back. 

But I could see through squinted eyes, Sam talking to Cas, and Cas glancing occasionally at me while rambling on about some book.

My stomach started to hurt and my eyes started to water. The voice kept going, 'You may save people but at what cost?! People you couldnt save are still there, still cut short!' I can feel vomit in my throat.

I stand up, wobbling at first, and I can feel Sam and Cas' attention dart to me. Sam stands up quickly and Cas does as well. "Dean?" I can hear it, I can hear my name leaving their mouths, pretending to be fulled of worry.

But they don't care. 

They're not worried.

"Whats wrong?" Cas says, his voice sounding oblivious to anything dangerous, like a child. 

My eyes are still burning, I turn my back to the table and I walk as normal as possible to my room. Sam doesnt move to go after me, but Cas starts to, I can hear the footsteps, and then I can hear them stop.

"He needs time alone."

I close my door, turn the lock, and plop down onto my bed. Pain surging through my blood, and evil, violent thoughts going through my head.

I need some whiskey, I need anything to stop this.

A million thoughts a second, and I could understand them all, pictures of memorys I'd hate to relive flooding my mind. Its the most painful feeling you could imagine, the most painful thing to go through, and it hurts so badly.

I look to my side, a pocket knife sitting on the bedside table, I grab it, roll onto my back, sit up, raise my sleeve, and stare at all the other times I felt this pain. 

All the little scars looking back at me as if they were taunting me. This evil feeling has got me wrapped around their finger, sitting in their palm, kissing their ass. 

This motherfucking illness has me washing its fucking feet, surrendering all I have.

And I don't even have the strength to fight the damn thing.

Im on my god damn knees and bowing my head to this fucking ilness that crawled its way into my brain and infected me with its FUCKING POISON.

An anchor weighs itself back onto my lungs and I feel like my ribs are cracking under the pressure of it.

"Fuck." I groan, closing my eyes and sighing. 

I can't do anything anymore, I can't go swimming, I can't even wear short sleeve, because of these cuts going from my wrist to my elbow. 

Repeating the same slices on the other side, they taunt me and show me how weak and petty I am, how desperate I am for them to leave me.

I close my eyes, hold my breath, and press the pocket knife to a tiny space on my arm. I can see blood already touching the edge of the knife, and so I bare my teeth and hiss, pulling the knife along my skin, ripping it open.

Blood starts to slide out a bit, some smearing when I pull the knife away. 

'But not enough' my mind whispers, and I actually wonder if there is another person in the room. I can hear the hatred and the force, so clearly.

The dark red liquid lays against my arm, as more comes it starts to drip down past all the other cuts, tingling when it touches a past scar, and I watch it, still baring my teeth and hissing.

/_\\-/_\

Im still sitting at the table with Sam, we both sat down again after Dean closed his door, Sam staying silent for a while.

"He's okay." Sam says, offering a smile with only half his lips and grabbing a slice of the pizza that is now cold. He was silent for so long it takes most of me to not flinch.

I highten my senses, I aways highten my senses when Dean or Sam are alone. At least when I know they are,which isnt often.

I'm never hear that much, I'm always off doing something else.

Its silent for quite a bit again until Sam scoffs and throws down the pizza. "Hes so fucking confusing." Sam mumbles, standing up and cleaning up the plates and pizza. 

"I agree. He is rather hard to understand." I say, I can see how tense he is, how tense he got when Dean stood and left.

"Cas, do you mind keeping me company? I hate to ask you, we were supposed to watch a movie but we can't now and I'm not tired." Sam says, walking over and dumping the paper plates and pizza into the trash, keeping the box and setting it over to the recyling pile. I nod and stand, pushing my chair in behind me.

"Thanks, Cas. Do you want to go look for some new books to read, I can make some recommendations and then maybe we can watch TV." Sam says, turning to me and shrugging lightly. I nod once again and follow him into the library.

The moment my foot is touching the change in flooring as I enter the library, hes already spotted a book and three pages into it. He looks up briefly at me and smiles, "Sorry," he says, gazing back at the book, "My favorite book in here, at least so far." He says, closing it up and setting it back in place with the widest grin I've seen him have in quite a while.

"What is it called?" I ask, stepping closer. Sams eyes light up with a joy I havent seen on anyone in a long time. He turns back to the book and pulls it back off the shelf. 

"2666," he says, a bit more excited about life, I will admit I read exceptionally faster than any human will, but Sam can read quite well for a human; And he loves it.

"I think you should read this one actually, Cas." He says, walking up to me, holding out the book. I tilt my head, almost confused. Then I reach out and take the book.

"Thank you, Sam." I say, he rubs the back of his neck, shyly and smiles at me.

"No problem, do you want to continue to look for a book or do you just want to go for a movie?" He asks, I furrow my brows in confusion and look up at him, hes very tall.

"We just got here." I say, tilting my head again and matching eye contact with Sam.

"Well you don't seem that excited." He says, shrugging lightly and a slight blush spreads to his cheeks. Embarrassment? Does he think I would make fun of him as Dean does?

"I won't laugh at you, Sam. I find your appreciation in books and reading interesting." I respond, bringing the book closer to myself and making my way over to the Biographies.

I didnt bother looking back at him to see his reaction, I wanted to find a book to read.

I'm looking to my right at the books and start to search through the titles.

A surge of white blinds my eyes for a few seconds. I squint and pain aches through me, tremendous pain through my left arm. Stunned, I back up into the leaning shelf and squint. Dean is in pain. My whole body is a bit froze for a second before everything clicks.

"Sam!" I yell, I turn around and storm over to the shelf I last saw him, he isnt there. Then his head pops out of a shelf at the other end of the room.

"Yeah, Cas?" He asks, holding two books and worry starting to fill his face. Before I could even open my mouth, my eyes go white again and a even stronger pain throbs through my vessels right arm. And Sam rushes to my side because the feeling knocked me off my feet.

Im sitting on the floor, but before a word can even be dared to pass my lips.

White.  
Pain.  
Left Arm.  
White.  
Pain.  
Right Arm.  
White.  
Pain.  
Palm.

Only seconds apart, Dean is in pain.

My whole body is aching for the next four minutes. I can feel any and every pain, the pain doesnt stop with his, his would still be in awful pain even after the four minutes.

"Dean is in massive amounts of pain right now." I huff out, completely out of breath. Sams eyes go wide and his irises go black, anger, worry, and sadness fill his glassy eyes.

"How the fuck is he in pain? Did he fall or something?" Sam asks, completely enraged, he sets his hand out for me to grab, and I stand up.

"No, Sam, they're cuts, the stinging matches the feeling of cuts to the skin." I say, but I doubt he could even hear me because hes already banging on Deans door.

"Dean! Open the fuck up!"

*-.:.-*

The voice from the door booms and echos the room, it scares the shit out of me, so much I almost cause another cut down my arm.

I had 4 new cuts, and one across my palm, I did it just to watch it bleed, but it would go with any other of the times we did it for ritiuals or anything.

But the cuts wouldnt, and the blood would sync through my clothes, so I ran to my left, grabbed a papertowel, and set them on thick on my arm, then I threw the shirt sleeve over it.

"Dean!" Sam roared, like a fucking lion, he beat against the door and I just had to take a deep breath.

"Sammy," my voice cracked, my whole body was aching in pain, "Im fine, Sam." I mumble, clearing my throat of all emotion and leaning back against the bed.

"Dean, I felt you in pain." Cas says.

Cas.

Cas' voice always lifts me from whatever I feel, hes my rock. I can hear his voice and instantly feel like a king, instantly feel better.

"Cas, I don't know how you know but I was shaving, I cut my chin a few times." I say, back to my regular voice.

I can't hear anything else after that, not a word, not a single noise. Its silent. And so am I.

And then a thought enters my flood.

'What if I leave here, go driving, and then suddenly, theres no such thing as a Dean Winchester anymore?'

And my skin crawls at the thought, and my heart rate pumps faster, and my eyes start to water.

No.

Oh god no.

What the hell am I thinking?!

I can't just leave!

And then it overwhelmes me again, and I can't fucking breathe. My throat goes completely dry and I'm coughing and crying before I can realize. 

'You pussy, you crying little fucker. You're not a man, not worth it.'

And my stomach is hurting like hell and my skin is crawling and Im a GROWN ASS MAN laying on his bed, wheezing and crying because his whole body and soul is crushing itself.

'What if you just get up and go for a drive, just to clear your head.'

The only thought that wasnt out to wring my neck. And before I can over think or question the thought, Im grabbing my keys, wiping my tears and opening my door.

Cas is sitting a few fet from the door, in a chair he pulled from the dining room, and Sam isnt anywhere near.

His eyes light up and he looks at me, sitting up as fast as he could and looking at my arm, then me.

"Dean...I-" he starts, but I certainly couldnt bear to hear it. I don't know how he knows, but he does, and I wont bear to here it.

"Hey, Cas. I'm going out, tell Sam. If he asks that is." I say, giving him a flash of a smile before turning from him.

"Wait, Dean. Can I see your Arm?" He asks, I turn around and look at him again, concearn writhing through his expression. I shake my head no, turn back around, and start to walk to the door.

When my boots touch the grass and the wind blows through my lungs, I feel an anchor lift off me. And I feel free, if that makes any since.

'But you arent free.' My mind repeats, and I can hear the hatred seeping into my skin.

"Shut up." I say, I know whatever is talking isnt physically real, but I cant help it, I'm talking to myself.

You fucking Nutjob, you deserve to be in the looney house, you fucking crazy sunovabitch, 

I pull my keys out of my pocket and open the door to Baby, getting into the front seat and adjusting myself into a comfortable position. Just as Im about to put the key in the ignition and start it, a thought dances past my mind.

'Where the hell do I go?'

And my only response, sitting on my tongue, is just to fucking drive. And so I hit the road, I listen to the roar of Baby and start heading whatever way has a road.

I see a giant ocean from the distance, I'm in the city now, and It's three in the morning, and no ones to be seen but me on the road. The ocean is glistening in the moonlight as I drive closer to it, and then I spot the Old bridge, a bridge I never drive on, never had the chance to. 

But I do now.

And without even being aware, I can feel the pressure of the pedal, and I realize I'm driving faster as I get closer. And I've got to completely stop and take a deep breathe to keep myself from missing the bridge completely and crashing into the rails.

And it scares the hell out of me.

Why am I so weak? Anger fueled me, I could always fight, always. But when this...Monster cages me in, I cower behind the bars. Its pathetic, and I cant help but remember the first time it hit me, the first time it knocked me off my feet.

Being 14, looking after Sam, tending to his every want, and the only thought that crossed my mind, was...

'Why won't Dad take care and love me? Why can't I be a kid? Why does Sam get to have that right? When did I get a choice?'

And that fucking broke me.

Broke my fucking pussy ass. I fucking broke.

And I couldnt move, it hurt like millions of guys punching me in my gut. My father has punched me, hes beat me, hes cut me, hes tortured me. But this felt a million times worse.

Sams watching TV, and Dads sharpeneing knifes.

And I collapsed, I passed out, worried everyone, scared the hell out of my dad and Sam, and I was so selfish...so god damn selfish.

My breathings stopped, and when I feel pricks to my skin, I realize where I am, and that I've been holding my breath. Crying.

You weak ass little child.

God does this hurt, Oh fucking hell does this shit hurt, everyone around me dies, everyone hates my guts, Im such a selfish asshole. 

I pulled Sam out of his whole life just for myself. I got his girlfriend dead. I ruined his life. He fucking hates me, he should kill me, push me off that bridge.

And thats all it takes. 

I open my car door and Im crying, oh you can bet I'm fucking sobbing. And Im grabbing my flask out of my pocket, and I start walking to the bridge, and pouring the whiskey down my throat.

I lean myself against the rail as I walk. And Im looking at the moon, and watching it glint in the ocean, I wonder how cold it is.

And then a tear slides down my cheek and onto my lips, and I can taste the salt, I can taste how salty it is. 

My mind hits me again, and I picture it like the ocean in front of me, and every wave is another memory I never want to remember.

And I scoff at how silent and calm the ocean in front of me is, its horridly calm, and I'm suddenly laughing.

And I just have no damn clue at what Im laughing at.

But then Im at least a mile away from my car and Im in the middle of the bridge. It's about 4 oclock in the morning, and cars are still nowhere to be seen, and Im on this bridge all alone.

When I look up I have to stop, I just have to. My skin is crawling and everything is blurry and then this burning is in my chest. And I take another long swig of my whiskey.

I lean against the rail. The water looks so cold, I can feel it on my skin and I wish I was in the ocean.

And pictures go through my head, and I start laughing, I can see a fish going up to me, and not knowing what or who I am, and leaving a kiss on my cheek, and swimming off.

And then, I have the urge to be closer, to just be so much closer to the water. I cant utter a single word, Im speechless and breathless.

All the demons I've ever killed, anything Ive ever killed, all finally lifted from my shoulders. And I can hear someone elses voice, it takes me a bit to realize, but its my mother.

'You did good. You can rest. You did good.'

I know thats my head, and but god do I know this isnt real, and I know. But I just don't care. I feel okay, I feel perfect.

I climb up onto the bars, and Im sitting on the edge of them, looking down.

'Dean. You saved so many people, and you helped so many people and you risked so much. You can rest now. You can sleep easy, you can leave this world. You can be in peace. You did good.'

Mom.

My mom.

I close my eyes, I'm still crying, I havent stopped. My mothers voice echoing my mind, all the bad thoughts slipped away, and I feel so light, so good.

I take a deep breath, open my eyes, an look over the edge one last time.

Before I can think.

I lean forward.

And the air hits me, whooshes me, breaking under my weight. Im falling. And its trying to save me, but it cant.

And then I realize, it hits me so fucking hard, so hard I thought It would knock me physically.

I just jumped off a bridge.

And now I'm going to die.

Im going to hit that water, and die. Its below freezing, and the waters surface will surely pierce my skin from the impact. And I'll be drowning if that doesnt kill me.

And Cas is still at the bunker, probably reading about Jane Goodall or John F. Kennedy and he's going on about how fascinating their choices were.

And Sam's probably grouching around with his stupid long hair and reading or being a nerd and clicking off the porn I watched on his computer earlier.

And here I am.

Falling, waiting to die, reminiscing about my life.

I'm a fucking horrible person.

If I'm being honest, I don't really remember hitting the water, I do remeber being in the water.

I probably passed out, blacked out, or something else, but I don't remember hitting the water.

I remember being inches away and squinting so hard and taking a deep breath. 

And then I remember sinking, and trying so hard to move, to swim, to anything. But not even my pinky is moving.

Maybe I went into complete and utter shock.

I probably did.

And then I remember the feeling of a million tiny needles in my skin, and my throat swelling. And being so fucking cold.

I was in the water, conscious for longer than they say. You'd think I'd pass out, not be underwater alive for long, but thats the biggest lie. I was awake, squinting, trying to move, cold as an ice cube, and watching past memories, remembering all my regrets.

And then I started counting, about a minute in I started counting.

1  
2  
3  
4  
5

5 minutes.

I counted five fucking minutes, and then, the swelling overwhelmed me, and my whole world dissapeared before my eyes.

No more Sam.

No more Cas.

No more Mom.

No more Dad.

No more anyone.

No more me


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you have noticed or not but the symbols are the transition into the person.
> 
> Dean's is: *-.:.-*
> 
> Sam's is: <[~|~]>
> 
> Cas' is: /_\\-/_\
> 
> I use them to show the transition between point of views. 
> 
> Sorry if it was confusing before.

/_\\-/_\

Its been at least 2 hours since he left.

Dean isn't picking up his phone, and I can't pin point his location, and I can't feel him.

Sam hasn't left his room, he stormed into his room after Dean passed the cuts that could knock me off my feet as shaving. He's angry at the least, I could hear cursing from his room, but now its gone quiet.

I had grabbed a chair from the table, and sat infront of his door, but he didnt even care when he came out, he just told me he was leaving.

And now I'm sitting in Dean's room, he had left the door cracked and I wandered in. I hadn't bothered looking around for signs. I've been calling and Worrying about him.

After the 36th call to Dean's phone, my fruastration has boiled over and I throw the phone on the bed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see blood splattered onto the bedsheets, and I know now, it wasnt shaving. He lied.

And just as I'm about to go tell Sam, my whole body drops in tempature and my skin pricks, feeling like lava all over my skin, even though Im shivering cold.

My bones seem to ache, and I stumble back onto the bed, its freezing cold. My throat suddenly closes up tightly, my body becoming heavy and my eyes stinging slightly.

Dean.

Dean is feeling this.

How?

Where? 

I am winded and I can still feel this, I'm going to feel this for 3 more minutes.

I can't breathe and my skin is burning.

I need to go get Dean.

I try to fight against my body to move, and Im quick to realize its no use.

I hope the burning in my throat is whisky. I hope the tingling is Dean taking a cold shower. I hope.

But hope is useless.

I'm writhing and rolling on the floor, hands clawing at my throat to breathe, I can barely move, hands on my throat, just barely.

My eyes are prickling shut as more time passes me. I need to tell someone, I need to get him, 2 more minutes before it ends, before I can go.

"2." I manage to get out, voice broken and slurred. Then the feel of water choking in my throat comes, and I regret uttering a word.

Im counting every second, and Im analyzing every possibility. Dean cant be choking on food, unless hes somewhere very cold at the same time. Dean can't be choking on alcohol, that wouldnt explain the cold and it doesnt last longer than a minute, which would have let me go already. 

And the thought hits me.

Hes drowning. The icey sharp skin, the sharp pains from hitting the water, and the prickling eyes. Hes in water, and hes drowning.

But hes not dead yet, otherwise I wouldnt still be in pain.

30 seconds left until I'm flying to every ocean or lake I can find. And Im going to find him, and I'm going to lift him out of that water.

And the times up, the pain is immediately gone so quick I almost forget it was ever there, almost. My vessel seems to become heated, my first initial guess is rage, but no, its fear.

Im flying and zapping until I see the impala, its pulled over half in the road half on the sidewalk, and Deans not in it. I see the water and Im already launching myself towards it, looking around, as quick as I could.

Dead.

Thats my first thought when I see him, his eyes are closed and his body is limp. His soaked clothes are anchoring him down slowly, and his hair is spiked up towards the surface.

We were immediately at the hospital when I touched him, I didnt even need to think. 

He didnt move when he was out of the water. He was so still and lifeless that I couldn't even look at him.

I grabbed him up in one swing and he was in my hands.

I carried him in, everyone looked at me, and I couldnt pin point why, so much attention.

The service desk man came towards me, and reached out to touch Dean. My instincts came and I yanked away,  I almost pulled out my angel blade, but I managed to stop myself.

"Can you help him?" I asked breifly and warningly, he gulped and nodded, shock through him. He turned and called to someone else.

"Tinty! We have an emergency."

He ran over to the phone, and started dialing people. Two women came forth and started to try and grab Dean from me. But I was quick to stop them.

"Dean Stays with me." I say, the woman pauses, looks at the other and then frowns.

"Dean needs to be in a hospital bed, not your arms embrace, sir. We dont have time for this." She says, eyes hopeful, looking for understanding eyes looking back at her. But if she wants that, look at someone else.

"Then lead me to this bed and I will set him there and help you heal him." I say, the two women look at one another before turning and rushing to a room. With I following closely behind them carrying Dean. 

I sit him down and lay him up upon the bed. The nurses start to hook him to various machines the moment I step back, rushing a doctor in.

"Sir you need to leave." They say, grabbing my arms and ushering me out. But I protest, when they finally manage to push me out the door, I turn invisible and teleport back in.

I watch in silence as the nurses and doctors fondle Dean's body. Nurses feeling for places to put IV Needles in, doctors checking pulse, and then the doctor starts pumping and pressing hard on Dean's chest. 

He starts talking but I stop listening, the man leans over and kisses Dean. Fury risses in me, and Im not sure why. I dismiss the petty emotion and watch as he repeats, every little kiss makes me infuriated. 

Panic sets into the doctors face, and he starts becoming frantic, yeling at the nurses.

The nurses go and grab different things, the doctor puts something on Dean, and turns it on, Deans whole body jolts.

And I turn away, I could no longer watch as the doctors fear increases.

I grab my phone out of my pocket and walk out of the room still invisible. Not bothering to care that the door would appear to move on its own.

Dean's number is engraved into my mind, probably better than my own programming orders from my father himself. 

So when I pull out my phone to call Sam, I find myself putting in Dean's number. 

And when I realize, I feel a tear slide down my face, even though I am supposed to be a Warrior, angel of the lord, I am crying for Dean Winchester.

Using my sleeve, its gone in a second, a simple memory of the lone tear, and I type in Sam's number. The ringing is louder than I want for a few seconds, until I press the top button on the device.

"The quiet button" as Dean called it, and then he told me he just needed to find Sam's and life would be perfect. Sam told him to shut up but I could feel the joy radiating off of him. And then I informed Dean humans don't have that in their anatomy. He just scoffed and looked at Sam.

"I wish."

The phone got silent enough for only me to hear and Sam picked up.

"Yeah Cas?"  
"Sam, Dean is in the hospital."

The sound of a chair scraping against the ground echoed through the device and Sam's breathing became heavier.

"What?"  
"Yes, Dean was drowning. In a ocean."  
"How? What happened, Cas?"

Shuffling and movement came clear as day through the otherside, Sam was rushing around the house and then he heard the front door open.

"Well? Cas? Hello?" I didn't realize how long I had been listening carefully.

"Dean jumped off the Old Bridge." I took a deep breath and continued, "The car was parked diagonally across the road and sidewalk. He walked to the middle of the bridge and jumped off."

And it was silent on the other end. I had to check rather the call was still working or not. It was a good 7 minutes before Sam finally spoke.

"Okay."

And he hung up.

<[~|~]>

"Faster god dammit."

The cab driver increased her speed just slightly, panic setting in her.

"Please calm down." The cab driver pleas, her hands on the wheel, turning white from her tight grip.

"How about you stop talking and drive faster." I hiss, grinding my teeth and staring out the window.

That idiot.

He jumped off a bridge.

A. FUCKING. BRIDGE.

I know hes done some really messed up crap and hes really screwed us up. But this is far beyond selling his soul in a crossroads deal, this is way beyond taking on the Mark of Cain.

At least then he had a goal! Live and Fight. (Even if at somepoint it wasnt him doing the living and fighting and instead saving someone who would)

But this Fricking MORON this DUMBASS, he jumped off a bridge.

The tires screech to a hault infront of the big foul smelling building. The driver turns around, relieved. "Here, Pay up." I get out of the car, turn to the drivers window and throw way more than it costed through the slot.

I turn around and start jogging quickly inside. I can see water trailing in and just the sight of it makes me want to hurl.

"Sam. What room is the wet guy in? Now." Demanding and forceful, I put my fists on the table. The small frail man there looks up at me and a flash of realization hits him.

He points to the hall to the left and stutters out, "The fourth room on the left." he shrinks back into his chair quickly and turns to a computer.

It feels like my feet are ahead of me as I speed down the hallway. And Cas appears out of thin air, eyes red and puffy, and coat soaked.

"Cas." I whisper, and I pull him in for a hug, hes limp in my arms and I can see how painful my brother looks just in Cas' eyes alone. His heavy arms, and his broken sunken in eyes, and his quivering lips, but his stiff body, all at once.

And if you pull back and look at him, you can picture everything. And thats exactly what I did, I pulled away from the hug, put my hands on his shoulders and looked him up and down.

"You look like shit."

Cas' laugh echoes the halls and he leans his head into my shoulder, his laughter becoming sobs.

"I could feel it, Sam." He whispers.

"Feel what, Cas?" I ask, chocking on my own words.

"I was calling him, and I saw blood on his bed sheets. And when I went to tell you, I felt him jump in, I felt the pain that he felt." Cas breaks into a painful cry into my shoulder.

"And I laid on the floor unable to breathe for 4 minutes. It was the most painful thing I've ever experienced. And he was in so much pain he thought a different pain would make him feel better." Cas says, his whole voice cracking in-between.

Im standing still, my own tears starting to come while Cas crys into my shouler. "Sam, I- I thi- think hes..." My reflexes surge in and I pull Cas away and look him in the eyes.

"Say it and I'll punch you in your face." I seeth, emotionless, though I can feel the tears slide down my cheeks.

"I swear to you Cas, I'll punch you in your face if you say it."  
"Sam-"  
"Cas! I mean it!"  
"I won't."  
"Okay."  
"Good."

Cas shifts and looks at the door beside us, we can hear the heart rate monitor and the shuffling of the doctors. "I saw what they were doing for a while, I couldnt watch it anymore." Cas whispers, then he clears his throat and looks at the ground.

"I need to clear my head." He says, and the sound of flapping echoes my mind, my cold, non working mind. Because I can't hear anything but the heart rate monitor.

I keep expecting it to just stop.

But it doesnt.

That idiot.

He tried to leave me.

Leave all of us.

You coward.

You tried to leave us all to deal with YOUR....SHIT! YOU THOUGHT LEAVING ME HERE WITH EVERYTHING TO KILL ME WOULD BE THE SMARTEST??!

YOU'RE A COWARD! YOU'RE A MORON! YOU ARE THE WORST PERSON ON THIS EARTH.

I couldnt hear anything but my thoughts and the monitor until I felt a hand on my shoulder. A black haired nurse was looking at me with worry.

"Are you okay, pal?" She asked, country accent laced into her voice. Her eyes brung me back to reality and I can hear how heavy my breathing was. 

"Yeah. Thanks." I heave, her hand falls off my shoulder and she smiles, her teeth so aligned and beautiful. Her eyes linger, her chocolate brown eyes and her coffee colored skin.

"No problem...uh..."  
"Sam."

"Oli." She says, extending her left hand, Im frozen for a few seconds staring at her before she laughs.

"I don't have an infection. I fight the infection." She says, smiling wider and shaking her hand, making it obvious. I blink a few times before taking it and shaking it.

"So, Sam, what are you doing here? Being at the hospital isnt just a activity people do for fun." She says, pulling away her hand and leaning against the wall. 

Just as I open my mouth a few doctors run past us. We watch silently as they run down the hall and into the room on the end. "Anyway." She says, shaking her head, her expression a bit more sad than before.

"Whatcha doing here, Cowboy?" She asks, punching my arm playfully and bouncing on her toes.

I was about to tell her the truth, but I couldn't let it leave my mouth. I wouldn't and couldn't dare tell her that my- my brother...he umm...he did what he did. I couldnt dare think it, I'd start crying.

"I'm interning." I blurt out, it shocked me just as much as her but she didnt seem to notice.

"Okay then coffee-run. See you around, Sam." She says, smiling and practically frolicking behind me. I turn around and watch her walk away.

And then something happens, and it gets my heart pounding. She turns to look at me while shes walking away, and she winks. And then shes gone.

Oli. Thats her name. Oli. Shes a nurse, and shes walking away. 

My mind can't seem to wrap around this. A beautiful nurse struts her way up to me, she calls me cowboy, she shakes my hand, and then she winks at me. And she corrupts my mind, with just her wink.

Wow. 

I'm sitting there replaying the encounter for 20 something minutes before a doctor and two nurses walk out of Dean's room. And hes frowning, rage boils inside me and I just think about wiping that frown off his face.

"Are you a close relative of 'Dean'." The doctor asks, I snap out of my thoughts, noticing the glare I've been giving him. You could practically hear the unsure tone in his voice when he says his name, and I wonder how much Cas had said.

"Yes, Doctor, Sam..." I clear my throat and continue, "Clark." I say, nodding and reaching to shake his hand.

He smiles and reaches out to accept my handshake. "Doctor Melvin Pierce." He says, flashing me a small smile before retracting his hand.

"We arent sure if Dean will wake up Mr. Clark. If he does he will have serious injuries that take months to recover from. We also found cuts trailing up both arms and palms." He says, he nods at one of the nurses and she hands him a clipboard, he passes it to me.

"The cuts range from years old to days old. A few being very recent, as in hours, Mr. Clark." He says, shaking his head and forwning a bit harder. Im in disbelief when he hands me the chart, and I read it carefully.

Patient has serious cuts across both arms and a few deep ones into the palm of his hand. We have reason to believe he is suicidal and he has many broken bones across his body, thousands of scars, and a bunch of never fully healed wounds. Signs of major abuse and participation in War is present on the patient. Months before full recovery.

Months.

It will be months.

My whole world starts spinning and I can feel a hard wall behind my back, and Im slifing down the wall, sitting on the floor, clipboard now across the room. And people are rushing to my side. My chest is hurting so badly and I feel like I can't breathe.

Once the hands start to grasp at me, my body takes over and the nurses are looking at me like a wild animal. I don't even recall what happened, but my chest is still breaking. And I wonder, is this how Dean felt? 

My heart pangs and my chest gets even tighter, I havent said his name, I've been avoiding saying his name. I just can't.

And Im suddeny standing up, and hunched over my hand to my chest, my heavy painful chest. Im squinting in pain as I look around, the doctor is frozen in place, the nurses are looking at me as if I was a wild animal, and I look over, I see Cas.

Cas approaches me, speaking to the nurses, but my heartbeat is too loud for me to hear anything. My chest is getting tighter and Im not sure I can move. Cas sets his hands on my shoukders, looks me in the eyes and starts speaking.

The nurses come closer again and I can feel my body as it raises my fists. Cas grabs my wrists and pulls them to my sides. The nurses grab me again and this time I can't move to resist. Cas has me tight in his hold. And my chest overwhelmes me. 

I pass out. My eyes close and I can no longer feel certain parts of my body as it gets harder to stand. Then Im not standing. And hands are fondling and grabbing me.

Dean jumped off a bridge.

While I'm out, I can only imagine the pain be was in, and pictue him standing on the rails. Hes closing his eyes, and leaping, waving and squirming in the air before he hits the water.

Splash.

/_\\-/_\

"I'm sorry Ma'am, they're both soldiers." I explain to the nurse, she hesitantly nods and takes a deep breath before reaching out to him again. 

He squirms in my grip at her touch and she jolts back, tensing. I nod at her and she finally grabs his bicep, ignoring the squirming he does under my grip, and leading me to a empty hospital room.

"He's having an anxiety attack. He needs to be given anxiety medication and sleep." She says, walking in and fixing up the bed and arranging stuff around us.

"That won't be a problem." I say as Sams feet give in and he goes to fall to the ground, my grip keeping him in place. The nurse sighs and pulls back the blankets.

"Set him there and I'll go get some medication." She says, jogging out of the room past me. I nod even though she can't see me and walk over to the bed. Sam just barely fits. 

His feet touching the end and his head just inches from the headboard. "Sam." I say, frowning, he looks so peaceful in his sleep.

I had went back to the bunker and laid in Dean's bed, crying. I couldnt believe what I saw. Dean was in an ocean just slightly under the bridge, drowning.

And the worst part was how it felt. To know how Dean felt, to feel every ounce of pain he felt. 

After all my tears left, I wiped my eyes and I went back to the impala. And I drove it home. And then I went to the spot I assumed he stood at, and I watched the ocean move.

I couldnt understand why he jumped. I couldn't no matter how hard I stared into the ocean, I couldn't see why he jumped.

It was 7:40 in the morning, cars were just starting to pass, and I looked out at the ocean, sun beaming against it. 

Why did he jump?

It was the only question I needed answered.

I finally walked away from it and came back to the hospital. And I saw Sam on the floor, rolled into a ball, shaking. A nurse put her hand on his back to soothe him, but he sat up, and punched her in her stomach, she fell backwards, onto the floor, rolling around, sobbing.

The other nurse backed away and bolted the otherway. Then Sam stood up, and he looked at me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered to the nurses.

I slowly approached him, when he didnt seem to argue, I set a hand on him, and he only flinched.

I quickly grabbed his hands and gripped them tight, bringing them to his sides.

The nurse came back into the room, startling me out of my thoughts. She walked over with a few white chalky pills and set them in Sam's mouth, then she proceeded to pour water in his mouth.

She leant over like she was looking for something before pinching part of Sam's throat. And he swallowed. She smiled, then turned and left.

And thats how my night went. I watched over Sam because I couldn't bare to look at Dean. And Sam slept.

And Dean...he slept too.

I hope hes dreaming of liquor and strippers giving him lap dances. And I hope hes still breathing. Despite my curiosity, I refused to walk into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave feedback for me below. Thank you so much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorryyyyy I've been on about a two month long vacation staying with my grandparents. I've been WAAAAAY to busy to write, I just got back so I'll write as much as I can.

*-.:.-*  
I guess you could say I was more than upset when I woke up still breathing. I couldnt move, open my eyes or even speak, but I could hear every word.

I didnt want to die, I never wanted to die. But when I had the chance to die, Im sure as hell pissed that I went through all that pain to still come out the otherside.

It was quiet in my own head. Much more quiet than you could expect. I would expect to hear how worthless I was, knowing I wasnt really awake, I was just stuck inside my own mind. I expected it to feel like hell. Having every thought pick at my skin, never ending pain. 

But it was silent, I couldnt hear a damn thing. Im still not sure whether that hurts more.

Its still quiet. Im not certain how long I've been consciously aware, but I know it hasnt been long at all.

My only question is how. How in the  twisted sick fucking world, am I ALIVE?! 

It hurts to ask that, it really does.

I'm just so sick of supposed to being someone so strong who can come back from anything.

That's why I hope I don't come back.

<[~|~]>

I woke up.

One thing Dean can't do now.

God it hurts. Oh god does this hurt.

It feels like my hearts been ripped out of my chest.

I woke up sobbing. Cas was by my side in seconds. But it didnt help that he was sobbing too.

"Cas, he's gone." I choked out, the tears burning their way down my face, like acid.

"Dean's gone, Cas." I sob out, my whole body is hurting again. Cas grabs my hand and pulls me even tighter into a hug, relieving the tight forming in my chest.

Cas is hugging me so tightly and for once, I feel safe. But its not long before I can feel how broken he is too. And I have the feeling that we wont be the same for a while.

"Sam, he's gotta be alive." Cas whispers, I pull back from his embrace to look into his eyes. They're still red and puffy from crying.

"Cas, the doctors said it would take months for full recovery." I say, shifting in place. The moment I shift, uncomfortable, I realize I'm in a hospital bed.

I yank away from Cas and start patting my own body rapidly. Am I hurt, who hurt me, am I dying?

"You had an anxiety attack." Cas states emotionless, gripping something on the nightstand and fiddling with it. I scan the room quickly before moving to get off the bed.

Cas is quick to stop me. He opens his hand and a few white oval shaped pills are setting in his palm. He jerks his hand towards me and with his other hand picks up a bottle of water.

Im hesitant to grab the pills; but I do, I set out my hand for Cas to hand me the water and he does. I pour the water in my mouth and lean my head back, throwing the pills in and swallowing.

"I've decided to see Dean today." Cas says, taking a deep breath. My whole body freezes in place and I look back at Cas, whose avoiding my eye contact.

"Cas" I mutter, voice deeper and warning.

"Sam, I can't heal him until-"  
"Cas." I scold.  
"I- I can't heal him until he's awake."

"CAS!" I scream, he flinches before quickly turning his head to look at me.

"That's enough, Cas!"

He goes silent for a bit before I recognize the look in his eyes, he's glaring at me.

"You sound like Dean." He mutters, his eyes flash blue before appearing darker.

"Stop treating me like a child." Cas mutters as he heads to the door, his trenchcoat ends catching in the wind.

"Cas, wait." I call out to him, but he's already out the door. Maybe I wouldn't treat him like a child if he didn't act like one.

Im up on my feet a few minutes after the door closes. And Im reaching for the remote, to watch TV. I'm not going after him, and I refuse to walk by that stupid hospital room.

/_\\-/_\

I am outside of Dean's room. I can hear the heart rate monitor beeping drastically through the door. The very door that stood between the body of Dean and I.

I say body because I'm not sure I could recognize who the person occupying it is. The Dean Winchester I knew would never jump off of that bridge.

Yes, he would accept falling off a bridge if he was pushed, he wouldn't try to get out of the water. Because I knew, and I think everyone knew that he didn't want to float up to the surface.

A small factor of his self destructive personality. That he wouldn't jump off the bridge, but he wouldn't fight to stay on the bridge if it came down to it. That small factor was something I believe we learned to overlook.

Instead of seeing how he gave up when he was in the water, we saw how badly of a situation he was in, and we always assumed he wanted out.

Because we couldn't understand his wants. We only could understand our wants.

We wanted him to live, so we thought he wanted to be alive too.

I took a deep breath before setting my hand on the door knob and twisting it open. The rooms tint changes as light fled through the door. The hallway lights were darker than the room lights.

I didn't look at Dean, I knew where his body was in the room, but I didn't want to look at him yet. So I trotted toward the side of the room, and still looking at the ground, sat in a chair off to the left of him.

The room was sad, the soft whirring of the vents and the heart rate monitor echoing the dreadful room. The room smelt of death, of tears, of hate. I felt chill bumps up my body the moment my foot touched the floor.

Its been long enough, I've hid from facing the problem. And so I stare at the problems face.

Dean's face is so pale. The whitest thing I've ever seen. He's usually a tan color, with life, but now he looked like a broken vase. Once holding flowers, now just dirt and glass. 

The nurses never dried him off. They only dried the spot the IV went into. But the bed was already stained wet and soaked.

Dean was still in his regular clothes, a flannel, white shirt underneath, and some jeans. His boots huddled off into the corner of the room, sitting upright just under a towel.

I suddenly had the urge to dry him off and put him in new clothes. I wasn't sure whether it was hearing water droplets hit the floor every few seconds, or simply how I noticed his breathing slow the moment my finger grazed his hand that hung off the bed. Either way I wanted to.

I stood up and made my way over to the door again. The moment my head peeped out of the door, my skin chilled and a weight lifted off that little piece of my body that was out the door.

I ignored the small smile intruding upon my face and signalled a nearby nurse. She smiled, made a little 'oh' with her mouth and cheerfully made her way over to me. "How may I help you sir?" She asked, her eyes turning to slits and a wide smile covering the bottom half of her face. She was too happy to be here.

"Can I get some towels and maybe a night gown?" I ask, offering her a smile back. The sudden urge to vomit came when she nodded without unsquinting and skipped away. 

Kind became unusual in my life, it definitely did not ease my stomach for this nurse to seem so happy in a hospital that screamed despair.

The nurse was gone for a very long time, she didnt come back until at least half an hour had passed. When she did come back, she was still smiling, it made me genuinely gag. 

Then she whipped her head around, asked me if I was okay, and then put back on her big smile and walked out after I simply nodded in response.

I got up the moment the door closed and sped over to the gown and towels. I was grabbing the gown and untying all the strings and situating everything.

I froze, I couldn't bring myself to touch Dean, even though I touched him earlier, held him, couldn't dare let him go. Seconds of silence pass.

I finally lift my hand and rest one hand on Dean's arm that was to his side. 

A shudder ran through my body, he was so cold. I lifted him slightly off the bed, and set him in the conjoined side chairs, the IVs pulling slightly. The moment my touch left him, it was another anchor added to the burden.

I set a towel down on a big bloch on the bed, and start obsorbing the water. As the water started to soak up and the bed started to seem dryer, I use a bigger towel and lay it down on the bed. And then I do the same to the pillow. 

The moment the beds as dry as it will get, I force myself to look back over to Dean. He's still dead looking, coma induced, laying across 3 chairs pushed together, soaking wet.

A deep earthly sigh leaves my scratchy throat and I tread back over to Dean. I grab his hand, stoping to shudder at the contact, and pull him up onto his feet.

I lean him up onto the bed and raise his legs as I manage to force off his jeans, and then his socks.

Before I can hang too tightly on his lower half, I pull off his giant coat, shirt, and then flannel. His body is so magnificent, I rebuilt this body just to his original form and I still cannot believe he looks like this. His original body is so much better than I could have done.

Once he's just about naked, just his boxers, I drag him over to the bed, lay him across it, and work the gown around his waist.

It's a struggle to tie the two back pieces with him laying down, but I manage to slide my hands under and arrange them in a perfect knot. His back muscles arching, a defense mechanism.

Something in me snapped when I felt his back muscles arch and his spine tense. Just knowing he can still feel me and the silent reminder that Dean is still the hunter I know.

I wanted to cry again, run my hands through his hair and lay beside him in the bed, feel the touch of his that burns me. It was a thought that made me realize just to the extent of what has happened.

Dean's disappearance caused me great worry and grief. Feeling Dean's pain caused me great despair. Seeing Dean in such a state caused me grief, pain, misery, and guilt.

Human emotions.

Human emotions have always been present, but not so deeply, I of course had them when I needed but it was more of a moral compass. These feelings are deep to my core.

I have took Dean and Sam for granted, to lose someone so important to you hurts so badly. Before it was just regret, not remorse.

But looking into the hunters face, I can most certainly identify these human emotions so clearly. And they hurt, all Im wishing is these to go even though at the same time I'm so thankful they allow me to suffer this.

Dean Winchester is a human who suffered greatly since birth and used his pain and suffering as fuel. Dean carried on through life and soon the fuel turned, started to fuel something else. He hated himself and couldn't understand why anyone looked at him with love.

We all thought he was the best person we could meet, he IS the best person I could ever meet. And Dean used all his suffering to fuel his hatred instead of his will. Dean Winchester didn't give up, he couldn't have.

Standing in the room, my body kicks into motion. Dean is the victim of a case. I can not believe he jumped off the bridge.

It was like a blink of the eye, I was suddenly outside of the hospital and flapping off to the police station. Im now working a case. Dean Winchester's case.

"Agent Ficker, FBI." I huff at the man in front of me. His expression fades from shock to fear.

"Yes. Of course. What can I help you with Agent?" He says naturally.

"I need to view traffic cams on certain streets, if you could direct me to it, please." I say, putting my badge back into my pocket and staring waiting at the officer.

He nods, 'Oh' and then starts fast walking towards a place in the back. I follow closely behind while nodding at viewing officers. The officer stops before I could realize, distracted, I bump into him. "Sorry." I cough, walking past him and going to the computer.

I sat down, only to feel the awful staring of the officer who led me here. I look up and glare at him, he gulps, and rushes out. As soon as the door closes behind him I'm already making my way around the computer and locating the cameras near the bridge.

My fingers shake as I click on the camera located just under the rusted panels of the bridge. I look around the buttons and set the date and time back to 2:10, when I am sure Dean left the bunker.

A soft knock hits the lone room, before I could respond the same pudgy looking officer peeks in. "I was wondering if you want any food or coffee." He mutters, avoiding eye contact with me.

"No, thank you. Do not be so afraid." I reply, not looking away from the screen. The officer seems to calm because then he smiles and nods before leaving the room.

As I'm watching the screen, I'm trying to run through my head what could ever cause Dean Winchester to jump off a bridge.

Dean Winchester, of all people.

It makes me scoff, their is no possibility that he jumped off a bridge to end his own existence. He would never leave Sam or I here on our own to grieve his death. Im betting something pushed him. And just like I said, he didn't fight.

Before long at least 30 minutes had passed. And nothing but a few truckers and a tractor has passed. For a city not much passes and what does isn't anything interesting. Not to me anyway.

A knock echoes the room again, but this time they wait for my response, and its not the nervous pudgy officer. "Yes?" I call out.

A skinny brown haired girl in uniform pops her head in. She smiles, and nods towards me, "Making sure your still alive. Having fun?" She says, eyes wandering across the computers back.

"Yes, Thank you." I say. And return my attention to the traffic cameras. She doesn't leave though, for a few minutes I ignore it, but I finally look up and glare at her. 

She jumps, startled, and then walks out murmuring, "Sorry" and then closes the door and the rooms silent again.

I look back at the traffic camera. Minutes pass before my whole body shakes. Dean has a flask in his hand and he's slowly treading beside the bridge edge. He's coming from somewhere else.

I know I should trace back time and check the other Camera to see where he came out, what led him here. But I'm so enchanted with looking at him while he was still alive, his figure moving without IV's.

Dean continuously drinks the flask, and it never seems to end. I pause the video when I can get a good view of his face. And I largen it. I see his face, Dean is crying.

I unpause it and watch. Dean suddenly looks like he's weak and leans against the bars. He's very very slowly still walking. And then he halts. He's a bit far off the screen but I pause it and I click on the other bridge camera.

He's closer now, and I can see some of his face, Im above in front of him, watching him. Hes sobbing, pouring whatever's left in that flask down his throat. 

In his eyes you can see so much pain, but you can tell he doesn't want to die.  His eyes close for a bit and it looks like his legs give in, he kneels slightly before getting back up and looking out at the ocean.

Something in Dean's eyes change, and his mouth drops open a bit wide, in shock, or awe. Deans eyes close, hes listening to something carefully. He leans forward the rails, and he does a once over the large body of water.

Then Dean puts his hands on the rails, and lifts himself up onto them. My whole body freezes, shakes, shivers, practically stops working.

Dean sighs, smiles, and leans forward. 

My breath is took from me, my whole body stiff and the feeling of someone stabbing me continuously stabbing me. Halfway in the air, Dean's body turns, and he looks up at the bridge, the rail. And it looks like he's about to scream and cry, but his body smacks into the water.

I'm still watching, 4 minutes later, I'm stuck in place, forced to watch, desperate for Dean to swim up. And then theirs a flash of light, and I see myself pull Dean out of the water. The look on my face could kill someone. Its so pathetic and pain filled. Holding him so tightly to me. Feeling the cold.

When I watch myself flap away, my everything is back in working motion, as if it was a lever. I switch the traffic and camera to 2:38 and I see Dean in his car. 

Hes in his car for at least 12 minutes, not moving. But his body shakes and he hops out of the car, the flask in his hand and utterly sobbing with the flask, walking towards the bridge.

I watch him walk, sobbing, and guzzling until hes out of frame.

I can't bring myself to wrap my head around it.

Dean actually did push himself off a bridge. He pushed himself off of that bridge in so much pain.

And I couldn't stop it. I wasn't there to stop it.

Fuck.

"Agent Ficker!" The woman says smiling, I push past her, my body numb to all emotion.

"Hey! Dick." She calls out and starts to rearrange her uniform, fixing it up. She rolls her eyes at me and walks back to her desk.

I storm out of the station and I don't even know where to go.

I see my bestfriend, my family, someone I care about, commit suicide and break down in tears. The whole time before, trying my hardest to convince myself its someone else who did this.

And then seeing him lean off that bridge, not jump like I originally thought, he LEANED off the bridge.

Dean did do it. That good man I knew is corrupted, broken even.

I can't go back and face Dean or Sam, and I can't go to the bunker, knowing Dean tried to hurt himself in their frequently. So I hide as far away from here as I can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not I cried.


	4. Chapter 4

<[~|~]>

I laughed, harder than I thought I ever could.

Oli was sitting in my room watching SpongeBob with me. Of course I knew watching something like this was belittling, but Oli was laughing and so was I.

"Kids...Still...watch this." I say, huffing out a laughing fit. Oli looks at me smiling so wide and nods.

"It's my niece's favorite." She says, laughing, she turns back to the tv to see SpongeBob building a bubble stand. 

"25 cents a bubble? That's outrageous. I wouldn't spend a cent on blowing a bubble." I say, frowning slightly.

"Sam," she says, laughing. Oli stands up and sits on the bed with me. "It's a talking sponge, don't take it seriously." She says, looking away from the TV to lock eyes with me.

"Didn't you watch SpongeBob as a kid?" She asks, she lays back against the pillow. Her shoulder is slightly grazing mine, but her foot close to my knee.

"No." I remark, snorting, laughing at how badly Dad would hate to see SpongeBob when he got home.

"I had just my brother mostly so I watched what he watched." I whisper, smiling and just slightly reminiscing some of the stuff I did watch as a kid.

"What'd you watch then?" She asks, voice not just laced in country but screaming country.

"Stuff like Saw" I say, shrugging and crossing my arms. She sits up and looks at me.

"At 6 years old?" She asks, a scoff at the end. 

"Yeah. It's all my brother watched and he hated anything like that." I say, nodding at the screen and smiling. I watch her facial expressions, she gets up off the bed and walks across the room.

"Why? Is he like 12 years older than you or somethin'?" She asks, opening the mini fridge and looking through it.

"No, he just-" a loud deep sigh leaves my lips. My bones start to sting again, she pulls her head out of the mini fridge and looks up at me, frowning.

"Are you okay, cowboy?" She asks, standing up and walking over to the bed with two mini bottles of beer.

I sigh and smile sadly. "He said that shows like that gave kids false beliefs." I say laughing quietly.

She hops back into the bed and hands me a mini bottle of beer. Her eyebrows scrunch together and a deep frown etches her lips.

"False beliefs? That's literally the whole point. False beliefs are literally the main focus." She says, opening the mini beer with a clack and hiss.

"I agree with him to a point, I watched some shows just not Dora or SpongeBob or Rugrats." I say, opening my mini beer and immediately taking a long guzzle the moment the cap came off.

"Woah, cowboy. Watch it." She says laughing. 

"Your liver ain't that strong." I pull the bottle from my lips and offer her a beer induced smile.

"Cute." She says, laying down on the bed and looking back at the TV.

It's silent for a while until the episode ends and she grabs the remote, bringing it up to aim it at the TV and turns it off.

"Whadaya really here for?" She asks, looking up at me.

"Uh, What do you mean?" I shyly respond, looking down into her gorgeous eyes.

"You got tense when I mentioned your brother, you looked real shocked that your an intern for a hospital which doesn't take internships. And you're in a hospital bed after punching a nurse I know quite well." She states, sitting up and turning her body towards me with her legs crossed.

"I did not get tense at any mention of my brother!" I remark, feeling my stomach drop and anger boiling inside.

"Now you're being defensive. Your brother is in jail, isn't he?" She says, frowning. I'm not sure if she can tell if I'm angry or not, I can't either yet.

"No! You need to stop. Right now." I growl. She shivers and spirals off the bed, looking at me, scared.

"Look, I'm sorry."  
"No, you're not."  
"Yes I am. I just don't want to talk about my brother, okay!"  
"I know and I respect your privacy."  
"Then WHY are you STILL talking?!"

She pauses, and narrows her eyes into a glare that genuinely hurts. It's a minute of silence that passes before she sets down the bottle of beer, and walks out of the room, eery silence trailing her every step.

When the door shuts it's like the trance was lifted and I get up out of the bed to chase after her.

My nightgown limiting my steps but I'm still at the door in a matter of seconds. I swing open the door just to see her talking to a doctor at the end of the hall.

Suddenly it's like I forget where I am, and I close the door. I realize how badly I'm broken.

Dean is practically gone and here I am, falling for a nurse. Before she came in the room in the first place, I saw a flash of when Dean was in purgatory, and guilt spread throughout me.

I refuse to not look for him, in this case, I refuse to not look at him. I have to visit his room, and I have to apologize to Cas.

I can't do that to him again, because he wouldn't do that to me if the places were switched.

But first I've got to get dressed. 

And just like that, the bathroom door is closed and I'm dressing as quick as I can.

All but my jacket.

/_\\-/_\

Hiding I find to be difficult. 

Being an Angel of the Lord is resembelant to having a gigantic antenna sticking out of your head. And I've realized over time that tracking someone may be hard but always possible.

Another thing that is constantly replaying through my head is:

'How long until Sam decides to go to Dean's room, only to see you missing?'

And worrying about that plus the constant flashes of Dean's lifeless body and him falling off that bridge bursting any and every bubble I could have.

It's like having an anchor tied to your foot while trying to swim. Of which I've learned from watching cartoons on Sam's TV, is very hard.

Sam's TV seems so far away right now. It's like having a credit card with no money on it, feeling lonely in something I know I'm not alone in.

Or like having an over internet relationship. I couldn't tell which one Dean said it related to but I know at least one of them do relate.

I'm just looking back at every sign and regretting my actions. After the doors of the police station closed behind me, it's like I could not go back.

When Dean was...okay, I remember a few times he stormed out of the bunker angry at Sam or I. When he would come back, he would be calm again, he told me he just reflected.

I was angry at Dean once for getting drunk and telling me he thinks I need to do something useful. I then proceeded to teleport out and find a mirror in a gas station bathroom.

I didn't feel any different so I went back to the bunker and asked Sam, avoiding Dean. He told me Dean used the term reflected as a verb for thinking hard about important matters. 

I lower myself to the ground and walk along the concrete as humans do and start to think hard about anything I consider or have considered important.

I end up at a motel a few states away from the hospital. I know it's not nearly far enough but theirs not a cell in my vessel that cares.

I order a room using cash and walk to my room when the man nods at me. I consider all that's happened, and I've came up with no solution.

I shouldn't need time alone, I'm an Angel, and I shouldn't feel these emotions at all.

I need to remind myself of who I am and where I came from. I will take time alone to reclaim my purpose.

That is until Sam calls because I abandoned him.

I have to do anything to make this right.

<[~|~]>

I couldn't find my jacket, I searched high and low, without a result. Finally, after at least 30 minutes of frustrating searching, I let it go.

I open the bathroom door and slosh my way out, walking out of the hospital room. The hallways dimmer light floods my vision and I look around, just slightly glancing around for Oli, but it hurts to do it.

I know very well that Oli is mad at me, but if just a glance at me is possible, I know it will make his face easier to bare.

His room is close, maybe a room or two away, makes the walk their harder for some reason.

I'm taking tip toe like steps towards his room, knowing every step closes the gap. The gap I'm so desperate to keep.

"There's people who'er tryin'a get by, cowboy."

Oli.

My ears tilt up and I spin around quickly to see Oli standing there annoyed, a plate with two syringes on it.

"Oli I'm so sorry, I'm so freaking sorry, Oli. I didn't mean to snap, I really didn't mea-"  
"That's great and all Cowboy, but I gotta patient in a coma here, and I just need your lanky legs out of my way." She says, she looks so angry right now I couldn't even process her words.

She huff's and pushes past me with the metal plate of syringes in hand. I can do nothing but watch her walk away.

But she stops. And my heart's so full of hope and shame.

She turns and grabs a door, but she can't, the metal plate starts to slide. She Yanks from the door and goes to help hold up the plate.

I rush over to her in an instant and smile at her, reaching for the door.

"Here, let me."

But the knobs slightly wet when I touch it, and I can't open the door.

"Who's your patient?" I ask, my voice not at all sounding like my voice two minutes ago, and it scares me a bit.

She slinks back a bit, shudders and stutters, shocked. "Dean, we don't know the last name." She finds her fight in a matter of seconds and adds, "But why ya care?"

And my stomach and whole body burns to the touch. "You can't go in there, Oli." I mutter.

She scoffs, "Why? Does he punch nurses too?" She says, rolling her eyes. 

She uses her foot to kick me, "Now open the damn door, Sam."

"Because I can't go in there yet and I need you to stay out here when I do." I say, crooking my head over to her and looking down at the ground.

She's silent for at least a few minutes, they're long and excruciating too. When she does talk, it's broken sounding.

"He's your brother...that's why you yelled at me for mentioning him, and that's why you had an anxiety attack, that's why you accidentally punched that nurse."

She's silent for a bit, processing everything, and then she puts a hand in a position under the plate to keep it supported enough for her to gently set her hand on my shoulder.

She takes her hand away and puts it back under the tray, she nods and backs away from the door.

Just that slightly comforting touch, was enough to help me get the strength to go in.

But I know I couldn't look at him yet, so I look over at Oli who's staring intently at me and smile sadly.

"I need you in there with me." I whisper, she just nods slowly and smiles back, hers sympathetic. She steps closer and leans her head against my arm, just slightly below my shoulder.

"I'm sorry.' she whispers, I sigh deeply and turn the knob to the room, before the doors even open the brighter light trails into the hallway. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting the weight of the room hit me, and I take two steps in.

My two steps were enough for her to slip in and stand beside me, tray of syringes I almost forgot excisted. I can hear the metal clink and her light footsteps trail towards the bed. My eyes still refuse to open.

"Hey Cas." I whisper, tilting my head down to the ground.

"I thought his name was Dean." She says, and I almost choke on my own spit.

"Cas?!" I ask, opening my eyes in a hurry and looking around until I feel the prick of tears.

Fuck.

That's the only words for it, if I thought just thinking about how he looked hurt, this was dying. It's not even explainable how pitiful and absolutely broke beyond words he looks.

And the saddest part is that they haven't even done much of him yet, he's probably got broken parts somewhere that aren't cast covered and he's probably got injuries far beyond that IV.

He's wet but in a dry gown and his clothes are sitting in a corner. My mouth is agape and I just couldn't stop the tears.

I was well aware I was sobbing and just watching him, and I knew Oli was shaking me roughly but it was like I wasn't present anymore.

Everything is out of reach, I couldn't talk or move any part of my body.

It was just mental images of him, just a body, not a soul. I just kept thinking about Dean. I couldn't do anything but, I just looked at him.

Oli was now screaming my name, hitting my arm, begging me to move, say something. And I know this is scary as hell, I'm not even sure if I'm breathing.

I finally put all my strength into talking, but I can't even hear what I said, I don't know what I said. But it scared the hell out of Oli.

She ran from my side out the door and started screaming at people, and people started filing in only at my sides, not one blocking my view of Dean. I didn't once take my eyes off of him.

Everyone's screaming but it's severally muffled, Oli's crying her eyes out and I'm just staring at Dean's lifeless body. Someone touches me, but I don't feel it like I should.

I still jerk away when whoever touches me. And I can feel the tears down my face. And then I start thinking about Cas, the same Cas who's supposed to be here.

Cas said he can feel our pain when he wants, and he felt Dean in his room. Cas felt Dean jump off the bridge, he didn't find him by searching, he knew.

Cas felt Dean drowning.

Cas felt Dean and went to the bridge.

Cas saw Dean in the water.

Cas saw Dean slowly losing consciousness.

And I was reading.

I.  
Was.  
Fucking.  
Reading.

More nurses file in the room and one of them, blocks my view of Dean.

And this time, when I put my effort into speaking, I know exactly what's going to come out of my mouth, and I mean every fucking word.

"Move. Or you'll get hurt."

The nurses all jump away from me, fear radiating from their skin. In that moment I realize something.

"I'm acting like Dean." I whisper.

And every nurse looks at me in so much fury and confusion.

I back up until I'm against the wall and slide down to the ground. And I start balling.

Everyone is so confused, except for Oli, who's right beside me, all other nurses backed away just slightly enough for Oli to push past and rush to my side.

And her touch sparks shame and guilt throughout me, so much guilt and it makes me want to vomit.

I'm snapped back to reality, and I realize, Oli is on her knees, crying and  shaking my shoulder and hugging my side and mumbling pleas.

And half the nurses and doctors are watching me carefully, the other half staring at Dean.

I slowly raise my hand, every doctor looking at me flinches and leans toward me. The ones looking at Dean are back to me now.

And everyone's on edge. I set my hand on her shoulder and turn my head to look at her. She freezes, slowly looking up, tears streaming her face, fear stuffed inside her.

"Sam." She cry's out, looking right at me. She tucks herself into my side and starts sobbing.

My tears starts to slide to a stop and the nurses and doctors start to slowly file out. We stay on the ground, me and Oli, for three hours. You may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.

Oli was calm two hours ago, but we were so calm that her and I laid on the ground, embracing each other, not a word.

I pulled back just to look at her, she was still shook up, and I didn't really understand why. I mean yeah, scary to see me non-responsive and crying but I don't understand what happened.

"Oli?" She flinches slightly but nods, not a word from her still.

She's a nurse, she should have left three hours ago, and she had already said she was in trouble for having a drink with me earlier. Shes going to get fired.

"You're going to get fired. You need to go." I whisper, she closes her eyes and leans back into me. 

"I know." She says, a sniffle following.

"What did I say earlier?" I whisper, she pulls back, looks up at me, and shock passes through her.

"You don't know what you said?" She asks, stiffening.

"No. What did I say?" I whisper back, she shudders and looks up at me.

"You said, 'It should have been me.' and then you mumbled 'I can't live this way'" she says, shaking.

My mouth go's agape, I can't tell what about me would say no that, no I wouldn't react the way she did, but damn. I would never say something like that.

'Dean would.'

It's the only thought that passes through me.

It really makes me realize, this isn't me at all, I've been acting like Dean.

I think Dean's gone, and my only way to cope is to act like him.

And it's coming back to me now, What Cas said, he was right.

I'm acting like Dean.

Oli props herself on her elbow.

"Sam?"


End file.
